


Tales and Adventures

by CrimsonCha0s



Category: Planes (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23175202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonCha0s/pseuds/CrimsonCha0s
Summary: A series of one-shots concerning all things Planes and Piston Peak!Stories will be posted as the ideas hit me and the time to write them arises. I figured it was finally high time for my years of ghosting around the fandom to end and actually jump on the rather small bandwagon.And it also gives me an excuse to start writing again.
Comments: 37
Kudos: 30





	1. Hot Pink Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade unfortunately gets more than he bargained for when making a friendly bet with Maru.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, welcome to my first Planes: Fire and Rescue story!  
> As someone who lives in beautiful Washington state during these uncertain times, I have found myself out of school for at least 6 weeks and temporarily laid off my weekend restaurant job until further notice. As a result, I'm going to have to find ways to keep myself occupied while the entire world seems to be shutting down. What better way to do that than through some writing?
> 
> This lil' piece of chaos was something I cooked up monthssss ago from a story-starter prompt. I had planned to start a series back then, but ended up not having the time. I am going to try my darndest to keep everyone as OC as possible, but this is my first rodeo within this fandom, so we'll see how it turns out. Hopefully I won't disappoint! :)

Birds were chirping passively from the trees, their melodious songs carried easily through the early morning air. The light wisps of morning clouds and mist had already mostly cleared up, bringing the promise of yet another long, blistering hot summer day. The world was peaceful and turning in its normal, run-of-the-mill manner.

At least, outside in the natural world everything was running by the norm. The current morning happenings in the main hangar were a different story.

The horde of usually unfazeable smokejumpers stared incredulously up at their boss, the shock, disbelief, and no small amount of amusement displayed clearly in their expressions. Each one of them tried to work up the courage to ask for an explanation. 

"What happened to your-"

"I lost a bet."

"Why-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Blade growled in warning.

Silence.

"Well, at least we know the fire alarm still works," Cabbie contributed, taking another sip of his tar-black coffee.

The chief turned his glare towards the old warplane. The look was returned evenly, but the barely restrained laughter in the plane's eyes was evident. With a sharp sigh, Blade thought back to the regrettable events leading to this whole fiasco in the first place. 

It had been the night before when the red helio had joined Maru for a drink in the workshop some time after dinner. As much as Blade had sought to avoid it, both he and Maru had ended up a little tipsy (the mechanic more than a little, unsurprisingly). He didn't know when or how the debate began, but the next thing Blade knew, the topic of his infamous cooking skills had made an encore appearance.

"Remember that time when the coffee pot wasn't working an' instead of waiting for me to get up ya tried to brew coffee in a saucepan?" Maru recalled with his typical devilish smirk.

"I would prefer not to." Blade couldn't help but wince at the mention of that legendary story - the one where everyone learned he couldn't even boil some water without completely ruining a perfectly good pan.

"You couldn't turn anything edible out of a kitchen to save your life. Wondered why ya thought drinks would be any different."

"If I felt it was worth the effort, I could."

"Charcoal isn't a food by my book. I prefer my meals to have some color to them."

"Black is a color."

"Not in the cooking realm it ain't."

"Maru, when was the last time you actually cooked anything yourself?"

"- I forget."

"Suuure you do. It's been long enough not to count for anything at least."

"And this matters, how?"

"Why do you get to sit there and berate my cooking skills when you've got nothing to show for yourself?"

"Just because I don't need to work in the kitchen doesn't mean I'm incapable of it. I could take you down any day of the week."

The chief narrowed his eyes. "Was that a challenge?"

"Wanna make it one?"

"You're on." Blade had a bad feeling he was going to regret this later. No, he was definitely going to regret this later.

And boy was he regretting it now. He should have called a forfeit when his friend had laid down the terms. Curse his stubbornness when under an alcohol-clouded mind. The first half wasn't unreasonable, they could choose what they made so long as it was more advanced than dumping cereal in a bowl. But it was the terms of winning or losing, on the other hand, that sent up no small number of red flags.

"You'll get to do _what_?"

"If I win," Maru began in between gasps of laughter, "then I get to paint your rotors pink for a week.

"You are joking, right?"

"Hell no, I'm not."

"I have a meeting at the lodge this week," Blade protested, but upon seeing the impassive look on his face, knew there was no getting out of this one. "Alright then, if I win, you're picking up your next three runs of supplies in a pink tutu. And I'll get Cabbie to make sure you follow through."

"Deal!" Maru finalized, raising his can for a toast.

Needless to say, things hadn't turned out well. Not for Blade, at least. Maru had taken on breakfast the next morning and he had pulled dinner. While the forklift's pancakes hadn't been exactly gourmet, little dark, bland, and chalky, at least they had turned out edible. Blade's spaghetti had, pun intended, gone up in flames. 

In all honesty, it took longer to fan out enough smoke to shut the alarms off and clean up the fire extinguisher foam than a normal person would actually spend making a batch of spaghetti. Naturally, Maru did not once stop shooting victorious glances in his direction throughout the entire duration of time he spent helping him clean the mess up.

That very night was when the deflated helicopter found himself stuck in the shop on not-so-friendly grounds receiving the terms of his defeat. He spent the entirety of that miserable hour as rigid as a board and kept his teeth clenched as tightly as he could. The moment the deed had been done, Blade had instantly made a beeline for his hanger, shutting the door tightly behind himself. While the other members of the team had been vaguely aware of the bet he had made with Maru, they hadn't known the specifics of the whole deal, namely the punishments. And hell if he was going to let them see the results of his failure before the paint even dried. 

Whoever said that things will look better in the morning was utterly mistaken, because things definitely did _not_ look better when Blade woke up. If anything, it looked worse, much worse, especially after he worked up the courage to see just how ridiculous he looked. It was downright awful, and painfully miserable. Should he have had the option, he would have happily chosen to hide out in his hangar all day, every day, for the entire week.

But as his chosen line of work demanded, he could only wallow in his own self-pity for so long before he had to face the real world. At least the world did have a hot pot of coffee waiting for him. Thankfully, the other aircraft had merely given him a funny look when he reluctantly trundled in this morning. Considering the fact a smirking Maru had beat him in there, the others had probably already been well-informed of his predicament. 

The smokejumpers were clearly a different story, and Blade really did not want to explain this one. He wasn't going to be living this one down for a few years. Probably never, he amended, remembering the untimely meeting taking place later in the week. 

" _Next time_ ," Blade thought revengefully, " _he is going to pay for this. Dearly._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did y'all think? Decent? Trashy? Any suggestions for improvements?  
> I've got a couple of ideas I've been stewing for a while, but I am 100 percent completely open to suggestions. If you've got any ideas, go ahead and drop those bad boys down in the comments. Until next time!


	2. Of Storms and Quiet Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landslides never occur during a convenient time, especially when they include trapped hikers. But even when things don't go as planned, Blade and Windlifter will still see the rescue through to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten parts of this story over and over again and I'm still not entirely happy with how it turned out, but oh well. People are always the hardest on themselves. Hope you'll enjoy!

No one had seen the sudden and extreme change in weather coming. One day it had been the typical sunny and hot pattern that normally made up California's summers. Overnight, an unexpected change in wind direction had a storm looming on the horizon, rapidly drawing nearer and nearer. A moderate rainshower had already passed through earlier in the morning, but it had been merely a few drops in comparison to what they knew was coming their way. However, with rain like that, fires wouldn't be a major concern, and so the members of the Piston Peak base were preparing for a potentially welcoming respite after the stresses of the past few weeks. That was when the call had come in.

The storm hadn't even hit yet, but apparently, the earlier rain accompanied by the increasing winds had been just enough to trigger a pretty major landslide in a relatively remote location. However, the debris had just managed to travel far enough to cover a hiking trail often followed by those seeking a challenge. According to other hikers who had been in the area earlier in the day, a pair of vehicles had set out on the path but had not been seen since. Reaching the area would take hours by ground, and with the ever-present threat of the storm heading their way, the rescue authorities simply did not have that kind of time and had so turned to their team for aid.

"What is the plan here?"

Creating an organized course of action was not going to be particularly easy, considering the fact they had no pictures to go off of. To make matters worse, the bystanders had been unable to provide matching descriptions of the makes or models of the missing hikers.

"Windlifter and I will be taking this one," Blade announced. "The best bet of finding these hikers is going to be coming from the air, and there is a chance we'll be needing an expeditious medevac." He gave a thoughtful look at the map they had been provided with. "There should be just enough space in a nearby clearing for us to land and wait out the storm should the conditions go south."

Fifteen minutes later found both helicopters with freshly filled tanks. The base echoed with the thunder of engines as they lifted off into the overcast sky. With the given GPS coordinates laid in, both kept their hopes for this mission high, and hoped to have their wheels back on the ground, safely tucked away in a hangar, soon.

The landslide was a serious stroke of bad luck. Had it occurred fifty yards over, there was a good chance it would have missed the trail completely. The slide was an ugly disaster of large rocks tangled with ashy soil and uprooted trees thrown in the mix. In short, finding trapped victims wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

"Well, this is a right mess," Blade remarked quietly as he surveyed the strike zone.

Windlifter considered the area wordlessly for a few moments. "If the hikers are indeed still here, I believe it is safe to assume they have been pinned by those trees."

Blade once again cursed the fact they had no idea what they were searching for. "I'll get as close to the ground as I can and see if I can't have someone respond. Let me know if you see anything."

The Chief wasn't sure if anyone would be able to hear what he was saying over the sound of their rotors and the layer of debris. Even if they could, would he be able to hear their response?

It certainly wasn't going to prevent him from trying. But after several minutes of effort, the only response Blade received was a worrying increase in the wind, upgrading it from a steady breeze to a mildly gusty current. He threw a glance towards the horizon and found the clouds already drifting closer. 

They were swiftly running out of time, and a decision had to be made on the best course of action.

"You said our best bet was to assume they have been pinned by the fallen trees," Blade stated, his expression thoughtful. "Do you still stand by that idea?"

"It is the only way they may have survived the impact." Windlifter caught his gaze evenly. "If they are not there, this is no longer a rescue, but rather a recovery."

They were left with few options. If there was going to be any chance for these hikers, they were going to have to act now.

Moving the trees was a rather daunting task. The structural integrity of the rock and mud debris was questionable at best, and without the aid of a ground crew… well, it was safe to say both helios could really feel the anxiety begin to settle in. If they moved the fallen trees and the soil collapsed inward, everyone was screwed. 

They started with the large fir poised on top of the mass. While the vast majority were well outside of Blade's lift capacity, his perspective quickly proved invaluable. Windlifter did not possess the same accuracy the Chief claimed when it came to catching his hoist lines around an object. He usually had someone else to clip them down for him. The wind also kept blowing his cables about, which certainly wasn't helping. However, from his hovering position, Blade was able to provide guidance until the massive Sikorsky tightened his grip around the trunk. 

The next tree presented a greater challenge than the first, but it, too, was soon lifted clear of the slide without complication. With the ponderosa out of the way, they received their first confirmation of having made the right decision as they were greeted by the dull glint of silver paint and an audible shout for help.

"Are either of you injured?" Blade called down.

"Not seriously, no. We're both fine," came the muffled reply.

"Good, here's what you are going to do. We are going to continue to move the trees. There is a risk that this will release more soil, so as soon as you can, please carefully pull yourselves free. Got it?"

"Got it!"

But nothing could ever go completely smoothly, and their uncanny good luck finally took a blow. As Windlifter moved to find a position over the next log, there was a sudden and abnormal clang, and Blade couldn't help but notice the brief flare of pain that flashed within his lieutenant's eyes.

"Windlifter, are you alright?" Blade asked, his voice laced with concern.

Even though there was now a clear roughness to the sound of the helicopter's powerful engine, he managed to remain steady in the air. "We must finish removing these trees. There is little time left before this storm will force us to go to ground," he replied calmly. 

"You didn't answer my question." Blade's furrowed eyebrows failed to cause any intimidation towards his second, who chose to return no words before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

The ease by which the Skycrane normally went about lifting heavy objects, however, was gone. When the first large drops of precipitation began to splatter across their plating, they were forced to double their efforts, and Blade could hear the Sikorsky's systems straining under the stress he was putting them through. 

The radio suddenly sparked to life with the sound of Patch's voice. "Chief, the latest weather report is giving us fifteen minutes tops before conditions deteriorate enough to issue a mandatory grounding."

"Roger that, we are close to getting the hikers free and will then be getting our tires on solid ground."

As the winds rapidly increased, so did Windlifter's discomfort. By the time the end of the next tree had left the ground and the trapped vehicles began to wiggle themselves free, the usually stoic Skycrane was having a difficult time concealing his pain. Never mind the storm, Blade knew he needed to get his friend out of the air, and soon.

There was not enough time to get the hikers back up to the road, but Blade knew they shouldn't be out in the storm, especially with unknown injuries. They needed some protection from the elements until they could make it back to the nearest town.

"There is an old loggers cabin approximately one mile southwest of our current location," Windlifter piped up as though he had been reading his mind. "It should suffice until the weather improves."

Blade was once again thankful for his quick thinking. "I will guide the hikers to the cabin. We cannot return to base now, so I will meet you in the clearing." Sensing his hesitation, Blade added pointedly, "It isn't a task that required both of us." Understanding his message, Windlifter resignedly turned in the direction of their safety zone.

With both hikers having managed to free themselves, who he could now identify as a white pickup and silver SUV, Blade gestured for them to follow him. The terrain on ground level was jagged and uneven, and with the increasing rains, it was also becoming slippery. Even with the advantage of four-wheel drive, Blade could tell the two vehicles were struggling. Guiding them to the shelter promptly proved to be a slow-going process. Although he was generally patient enough, the winds were getting worse and his nervousness was expanding steadily. He wouldn't be able to remain in the air much longer, either.

As the dirt turned to mud, their progress took hit after hit. Blade could feel his oil pressure rise every time he witnessed the free spinning of wheels that had lost their traction on the soaking earth. On multiple occasions, he was almost certain one of them was about to get stuck, and every time he praised the maker when they powered out of the mucky pools forming along the path. Blade was more than relieved when the cabin came into sight after what had felt like hours, even though it had barely exceeded ten minutes.

But ten minutes was ten minutes, and Blade was out of time. _All aircraft are hereby grounded until further notice_ ; the proclamation he had hoped would hold out for just a little longer. They were close now, at least, because Blade wasn't leaving until his rescues were safely tucked away. By the time the hikers were clear of the mud and their tires planted firmly on the cracked pavers leading up to the door, Blade found himself fighting to keep a level position in the air. 

The door itself hung at a crooked angle on its worn hinges, but the heavy moisture had apparently caused the wood to swell up. As Blade watched, it took quite a bit of effort on the part of both vehicles in order to force it open.

"Chief, it would be advisable to get down soon," Windlifter commented unexpectedly, the interference from the storm causing static to interject his voice.

"Understood," Blade acknowledged just as one of the hikers gave him a wave to confirm they were good to go. "They have safely reached the cabin, heading for the cleaning now."

The strong gusts made his landing more intimidating than he would admit, but Blade was thankful to be secure after his dash away from the cabin. Windlifter sluggishly opened his eyes as the red helio moved in closer and settled down near his side. It was then that Blade was glad he'd chosen to send him away when he had; his second really wasn't even trying to keep the pain from filling his eyes anymore. Blade sent him a questioning look, but it was met with silence. As the long minutes dragged on, Blade's concern grew as he took in the Skycrane's tense posture, and the almost imperceptible trembling as a result of it. His breaths, albeit shaky, were at least slow and deliberate. The Chief had witnessed his discomfort from injuries before, but normally it wasn't quite this obvious.

"Now will you tell me if you're alright?" Pointless question, really. It was clear that something was wrong.

"I'll manage," came the clipped response. 

"What happened?"

"I do not know."

"Are you bleeding at all?" The thick clouds made it almost as dark as night, and Blade couldn't tell for himself. 

"No, I do not believe so," he replied with a curt sigh.

So long as he wasn't losing any fluids, Blade knew he'd be fine for now. There was nothing they could do now anyway except sit tight.

 _Well, not nothing_ , Blade amended. He carefully maneuvered his way behind and around the Sikorsky before resettling on his starboard side, the one facing into the storm. While the Skycrane had him beat in terms of height, Blade was still able to block out the worst of the wind.

"You did not have to do that," Windlifter stated softly following several moments of continued silence. 

Blade turned slightly, meeting his gaze out of the corner of his eye. "I know."

_But teammates stand by one another during times of need._

He didn't need to voice the unspoken message, Windlifter already knew. He returned the slightest of smiles and blinked in gratitude before tiredly letting his eyes slide closed once more.

It was going to be a long rest of the day, as the winds howled uncomfortably and forcefully drove the cool rain into them. But even as the first rumbles of thunder joined the song of the storm, Blade knew that here, as a team, all would turn out to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After years of reading these fanfictions, it dawned on me that I had never seen any type of hurt/comfort situation where Windlifter was on the hurt side. I decided to change that because, you know, the strongest can't be the strongest all the time. 
> 
> Once again, trying to keep my facts and characters as realistic as possible, but getting the feel for them isn't as easy as I thought. xD Until next time!


	3. A Home For The Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short, slice-of-life concerning Christmas on the Piston Peak base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was this meant to be done by Christmas? Yes. Did my procrastination skills allow that to happen? No.  
> Better late than never?

The snows had come early this year, a rather peculiar ending to what had been a particularly busy season. The peaks were blanketed under a deep bed of white powder, glistening almost warmly beneath the light of a quickly setting sun. A breeze picked up and whistled through the trees, sending sprays of white flying from the branches, a harbinger of the incoming weather. 

Up at the base, one such gust tossed a loose patch of dry snow onto the canopy of a certain C-119, who was on a quest for the inviting warmth of a cup of hot cocoa. There was one sitting in the main hangar with his name on it, something well-deserved after the long, cold day of flying patrols throughout the park. While the Christmas rush did tend to offer a refreshing change from the drag of the offseason, the workload accompanying the occasion was quite heavy some years, depending on the level of ridiculous stupidity that accompanied the holiday visitors. That level had turned out to be... abnormally high during this particular year, and Cabbie had decided he didn’t want to know what manner of substances had been in their systems when they had managed to wiggle their way into some rather impossible situations.

As the old warplane shook the snow free, however, he reminisced on the past Christmases spent on base, and how fortunate he was to be spending such an evening in the warmth of a hanger with good company instead of a frozen tarmac in the middle of a warzone. Christmas on base would forever be a step up, and one he refused to let himself take for granted. 

Every surface, from the ground up, was a solid sheet of ice, making it a minor miracle that none of the doors had become frozen shut. The main hangar slid open as easily as always as Cabbie nosed a door open and sauntered inside. 

“You’re letting all the cold air in. Shut the door!” Maru snapped almost instantaneously, though the words carried little heat. Cabbie felt the touch of a smile cross his own face as he moved to close the offending door; it was no secret that out of the three of the base’s permanent residents, the plane was the only one with a sound tolerance for the cold. 

"You're just in time," Blade pointed out, just as Cabbie caught wind of a tantalizing scent wafting in from the kitchen area. Ham, and something that could have been sweet potato casserole, if he wasn't mistaken. Considering the chief had earned himself the reputation of being the disaster chef, the smell meant that Maru must have been keeping busy throughout the day. 

"Good, I'm starving," said Cabbie, feeling the familiar tightness of hunger from within his tank. Then the old warplane took notice of the rather intriguing changes made to the hangar while he had been out. 

Cabbie wasn't aware that they even _owned_ a white tablecloth. While they always pushed the table more out in the open to make it more easily accessible, they certainly didn't put a lot of effort into decorating for the holidays. But out of some spark of seasonal whimsy, the table was covered by a cloth, albeit wrinkled, with a centerpiece crafted from pinecones and freshly cut evergreen branches. Someone had even gone so far as to pin a string of lights across one of the walls. 

"You can blame Maru for all this." Blade moved out from his corner in anticipation of dinner, taking notice of Cabbie's puzzlement. "I think either Santa spiked his drink with something spectacular last night, or he's been possessed by an elf."

A bark of laughter echoed from somewhere in the kitchen, and Cabbie couldn't help but crack another grin. "Whatever inspirational energy it gave him though, I think he needs to share it with me."

"That bad out there today?" Blade responded with a wince. The helicopter was practically useless in the deep snow that had been falling almost continuously and had instead spent the day indoors trying to organize leftover paperwork from the latest season. Cabbie was the one who got to go out and have all the 'fun'.

"If by bad, you mean the _white_ pickup who managed to end up sideways and pressed precariously against a tree on the edge of a cliff after rolling down a fifteen-foot embankment because they took a blind, icy corner at lightspeed while it was still snowing, making it ridiculously hard to so much as even find them, then yes, it was bad out there." 

"Heh, and you all think I'm the crazy one around here," Maru sneered as he moved towards the table bearing a steaming hot casserole dish. 

"Crazy and insufferably stupid are two very different things. I'll take crazy over the latter option any day."

"So says the one who hauls around five berserk ground-pounders for a good chunk of the year."

"That's different."

"Why? You finally going to admit that you actually like those pesky gremlins?"

Cabbie rolled his eyes, ignoring the stupid smirk spreading across the chief's face. "Of course I _like_ them, else I wouldn't risk my own hide hauling their sorry afts around. I swear they pilfer their family's pantries every year before they come back just to taunt my already obliterated payload."

"Could have sworn it was just the other day I heard you blamin' it on the fact that you were 'getting too old for this crap'."

"Maru," Cabbie sighed, setting off a round of cackling laughter from the mechanic. " _I_ could have sworn you promised me a mug of hot chocolate when I got back. I already have five proverbial children to give me enough grief about my age."

"Well, those words were yours, not his," said Blade, earning himself a glare from the former warplane.

"Still," Cabbie responded pointedly, "I'd like to know where my hot chocolate is."

"Oh _fine_ ," Maru called back as he headed back towards the kitchen. "I'll get you your hot chocolate."

"How very kind of you." Cabbie's voice was thick with sarcasm as he sent a glare in the direction the tug had disappeared. 

Four score and seven minutes later, following the not-so-unusual saga of someone starting to tell a story, which then turned into _lets all argue over who did or didn't get their facts straight until the forgotten biscuits burn in the oven and have to be restarted_ , all three residents finally found themselves settled around the table. And while their antics had resulted in rather cold ham, that sip of lukewarm cocoa Cabbie took to wash it down felt just as good as the first, steaming one. 

The winds outside had indeed carried another winter storm in with them, the snow swirling wildly outside the window, lit up by the barely visible glow of the light attached to the front of the hangar. There would undoubtedly be a mess to clean up by morning, but for now, Cabbie was going to place his attention squarely on tucking in the meal before him and enjoying the evening’s company. After all, any Christmas spent with dear friends and plenty of food was a Christmas spent well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo-whee has this year been a ride on the wild side. Moreso, an endless cycle of "wow, could this year really get any worse?" only for it to, in fact, get worse. Between injured family members, the deaths of several people, my workplace shutting their doors, the most terrifying day of my life where I came 8 feet from losing my house & animals to a wildfire, and a whole slew of other events, my head has been set spinning. Really though, if y'all managed to survive 2020, you can get through anything. 
> 
> I still have quite the lump of partially written drafts sitting around. Fingers crossed, I'll get around to them this upcoming year. 2021 is going to be bringing about some major life changes, so there's no predicting when I'll be able to put some more stuff out. But I will try my best. 
> 
> My rambling aside, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and that the New Year will be brighter than this one!


End file.
